Chapter 11 get rid of george

Dave Dennis' voice called, "Laura, have you changed yet?" The knock on the door woke Laura up, and she sat up abruptly.She was sitting in front of the dresser, still disheveled.Laura was taken aback because she was dreaming just now.In the dream she was standing in front of a camera whose lens gradually changed into George's eyes, and it kept blinking at her--the kind of malevolent wink that George used to perform when he was juggling. Good thing George is dead, thank God.George had been dead for five years, and she always dreamed of him when she was very, very tired, like now—she was so tired that she dozed off in the middle of the party downstairs.

"Wait a minute, Duff." She replied, but the door had already been pushed open, and the agile figure of the head of the public relations department of Formost Film and Television Company walked in. Duff's round face was full of anger, with his hands on his hips, She glared. "Hey, Laura!" he said, "you've probably forgotten you're throwing a party with the press, why don't you do anything but hide here and sulk. Stacross Love promises tonight Playing the leading role, and doing a good job, but how are you going to make friends with the people who write the articles if you don't show up, I mean hurry up."

"I'll come, Duff." She tried to restrain herself.She hated Duff Dennis as much as he hated her. "I'm a little tired, that's all." "Stars have no right to be tired. Stars belong to everyone—that is to say, to the press," said Duff glibly. "You'd better get out of here," Laura Reina told him, dangerously sweet in her voice, "or I'll hit you with this." As she lifted a silver-gilt statue from her dresser, Duff took a quick step back.That statue was a gift from her personal attorney, Harry Lawrence. "Wait, Laura!" he said hastily. "If you don't see the famous Laura Rainer tonight, you will lose your reputation."

"Don't panic," she said, turning to throw him back, "I'll smile at all the bastards and act like I don't want to spit in their faces. Heller French and Bee Is Leigh Pierce there?" "I'm biting my nails and waiting for you." "I knew they'd come. These two guys questioned Mary all day about my size, and Pietro, the valet, wanted to know when I brushed my teeth." She pouted, "Mary was shot by Heller Kidnapped, you know, told him all the little things she knew. Pietro bought Billy the same way. If I talk in my sleep at night, the bastards will know the next day."

"These things are vital to a star's reputation," said Duff Dennis. "You know that. I'll wait ten minutes for you, er—by the way, there's a new reporter here, from the Eastern Press Group. Yes. He wants to interview you privately and ask you how it feels to be the woman all men want." "Fuck off. Send Harry Lawrence a drink and I'll be right down." "I'll follow your orders." The little man said and closed the door. Laura leaned forward and looked at herself in the mirror.She was thirty-five, and usually looked only twenty-nine.But tonight she looked almost forty.Because she's tired—god, so tired.The tedious politeness, the heroine of the party, and so on, and so on—well, it's all over.After a series of sensations, she released her contract with the company.Now she can finally form her own company with Harry and make the films she wants to make.He's already in talks with United for three films, which means they could each make millions.More importantly, it allows them to escape overseas, from all those boring literati and brutes who use the blood of stars as ink to write articles.Those guys had been sucking her blood for the past five years, trying to make public her background and her past - something she and Harry were trying to hide.

It was a miracle that the seven years of her life before she became a sensation in Hollywood were not visible on her face.For seven years she had performed in vaudeville troupes all over the country, stripped like a clown with her husband George, who took everything she had earned when she fell ill and kicked her.George, the only thing in his life that wasn't selfish, was being murdered during a robbery in Newark.When she read about his death in the papers, she had never been happier in her life. But how much Heller French and Billy Pierce wanted to expose this matter to the three hundred newspapers and magazines and tens of millions of readers across the country!

Thanks to Harry Lawrence - oh, thank God for Harry! At this moment, she seemed to see him, tall and broad-shouldered, with a gentle voice. He was calmly dealing with the reporters and starlets downstairs, making everyone laugh, even Heller French was fascinated by it.Now she and Harry could fly and sleep together - now they had their own company.Of course, Heller had to be cleaned up first!She had promised Heller a scoop, an opportunity the thin-tongued woman who ran the Hollywood gossip column would not pass up. There was another knock on the door.She turned around happily. "Come in, Harry!"

The door opened, but it wasn't Harry Lawrence who came in, but a small man with black hair and a pair of large plastic glasses that almost covered his entire face.Laura felt for a moment that the visitor had known him before, but this feeling was washed away by exasperation. "Who are you?" She shouted, "What are you doing in my room?" "Oriental Press Group," the visitor replied in a low voice, "I just want to talk to you for a while." He closed the door and slowly looked around the comfortable dressing room. "I told Duff to meet you downstairs!"

"I think you'd rather talk in private, Gloria." "Why, you—" She was speechless.Cover your chest with your hands. "What did you call me?" He took off his huge plastic glasses, brushed back his greasy black hair, and slowly closed his right eye, blinking half-open. "Do you recognize me now?" "No! Oh, no!" cried a voice inside her, George!not dead!not dead! "That's impossible! Damn you, you're dead, the papers say, a robbery in Newark." "It was a misunderstanding. It was made on purpose. Anyway, I went to prison under someone else's name and was released six months ago. You made it easy for me to find, baby. New name, new bridge of nose, new teeth, new Career, old Gloria Gordon from the old George and Gloria comedy band ain't nowhere to be seen. You're a nice place now, better than those rat dens we used to make a living out of."

Desperation and rage nearly made her tremble.This was George, this was him, slipping back from death to ruin her life again. "What do you want?" She tried to keep her voice calm. "If you want money, I'll pay you 25,000 yuan to end everything and get a divorce." "Divorce?" George grinned, showing his big yellow teeth. "I won't do it. I am your dear husband. After a very reluctant and helpless parting, I come back to see you again." "I'd rather die," she said with disgust, "you were a pig, and you're still a pig. Fifty thousand. I'll borrow it somewhere, and use fifty thousand to fill your hole. Don't forget, I Knowing what happened in Cleveland, you could still go to jail for that."

"But what if everyone knew that Gloria Gordon, the vaudeville stripper, was now Hollywood's top-grossing sexy meatball, Laura Reina? As it happens, I've got a few of you The stripper pics, the shitty scandal magazines are interested in them." Laura closed her eyes. "George," she said, "you must be careful. I'm raising the price to a hundred thousand now, and you'd better take it and go away. I'm not a child, and you don't want to blackmail me again." George thrust his hands into his belt, grinning grimly. "Baby, this is California. Don't forget the public property law. (According to the laws of some states in the United States, after a man and a woman get married, both husband and wife share all the property of the family.) What's mine is yours, and what's yours is mine. You have millions of dollars in the bank, don't bother with me about these small changes. Now come and kiss your long-lost husband. He has amnesia and needs your tenderness. Woolen cloth." She jumped up, and George strode toward her.He hugged her tightly, forcing her head back. "Let go of me!" she gasped. "Be nice to me if you want me to be nice to you. Come here and kiss lonely old George." He grabbed the wrist of her left hand and twisted it behind her back, causing her to bite her lip so hard that she couldn't cry out. . "That's right," he said, with cruel humor. "Now, come here and kiss your husband like a woman." Pain and disgust lit a white flame in her mind.She felt her right hand touch the silver-plated statue, and then slammed down with all her strength.She didn't know how what happened next—like the other hysterical episodes that had made her notorious, the whole body and mind burned with anger.When it was all over, she found herself holding the statue, out of breath, bending over George.George was lying on the hearth rug, eyes wide open, surprised, with blood trickling from a hole in the side of his head. That's when Laura realized someone had walked in. She turned to see Harry Laurence standing with his back to the door, holding a tall glass. "My God!" he exclaimed, "Laura, what's the matter?" With trembling hands, she took the glass from him and drank most of it when he went to lock the door.Then she groped for a chair by the dressing table and sat down, describing the whole process to him. "I see," he said, when she had finished, "it's your husband, by God, Laura." "I think he's dead!" "He's dead. God, he's dead now. Of course it's a defense, but you have to blow his head off?" "He wouldn't let me go. I lost my mind and just kept beating him until he collapsed." "Of course, I know that. But what about the fellows who wrote the article? Are they going to make a headline that you lost your temper again—killed him?" "He's a flea," she whispered. "He's here to blackmail me." "I know. But if you resist and wait for me—" He took out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. "My God, Laura, for example, Heller French, once she knows that you have hidden your past from her, she will play up a bloody case against you. She will stand by George for this Poor guy made up a miserable story about how he went to jail, how you dumped him, how he crawled back to you for help, and what did you do? You beat his brains out. What can't she write? And other people will just follow her and make a fuss." "My God, Harry!" She took his hand. "That means—everything is ruined, isn't it? Our company—with the United—my future..." "It could also send you to San Quentin prison for murder, or even life. It all depends on how vicious Heller and Billy and the other guys write. Even if we can get away with it, our company , plans, and your career are all over." "No, Harry, no!" She pressed her face against his hand, rubbing it frantically. "There's definitely something we can do. No one knows him, he's here under an alias, and he's not really a reporter, maybe we can get rid of him - for the sake of the company's reputation, Duff Dennis might help us." "He might." Harry thought for a moment. "No, we can't trust him. Once the company breaks up, he'll take the whole thing out. Duff would strangle his grandma for a story." "Then what shall we do?" she cried. "It would have been nice to get him out--but it can't be done. You know I'm being watched--I don't let Marie and Pietro see what I do. There are reporters and photographers everywhere I go. People come out of the bushes. I can't sneak a big box out of this house and open it privately. It's harder than getting rid of George." "I know, but we'll at least have to hide him, and you'll have to go downstairs, too. Have you got a big suitcase?" "Yes, in the back room. It's a very old suitcase. I always carry it with me because it was left for me by my mother. It's empty now." "Okay. You get dressed now, and I'll take care of George." She turned to the mirror and powdered her face frantically, trying to get as close as possible to the mirror so she wouldn't see what Harry was doing.She heard the sound of the trunk being moved, heard Harry grunting and complaining, and heard the lid of the trunk slamming shut just as she turned away from dressing.The trunk stood against the wall, locked.Gone were George and the rug on which he lay, and the bloody statuette was gone.Harry checked himself carefully and nodded towards the trunk without seeing any blood on his body. "George Ann is sleeping peacefully," he said. "Let him sleep and I'll figure out what to do. Take care of the downstairs first, then call the police. Of course we can prove that it was pure self-defense. Procrastinate." The longer we wait, the worse things will be for us." "No!" she cried, "no Harry! I've worked my way up to the top of Hollywood and I can't be ruined like that. George can't ruin it. He ruined me once—he can't do it again Do it. We must find a way, we must think!" "Well, then, go downstairs and meet the press. Smile, Laura, laugh." she laughed.She mumbled a few dirty jokes to herself, followed by a womanly giggle. "Where's that reporter from the Eastern Press Group?" Duff Dennis asked her.She smiled sweetly: "I talked to him, and he must have gone back to make up his story." Heller French pulled her into a corner. "You're not looking well tonight, my dear," said the tall, ugly woman, "probably from overwork." "I like what I do, Heller dear," she said softly, "otherwise I wouldn't be throwing my life like this." "Where's your manager?" Heller asked. "When are you two going to eat the forbidden fruit?" "On that day, you will be the first to know." Laura smiled and continued to deal with everyone.All the faces became one face--George's face, and all the eyes became George's eyes, winking evilly at her.She seemed to have x-ray perspective, she could see her dressing room through the ceiling, and then through the locked trunk, she could see George curled up in it, dead for the second time in his life—dead and still trying to destroy her everything. But he couldn't do it, damn it, he couldn't do it, he couldn't do it—her thoughts were interrupted, and Harry took her arm. "Relax, Laura, relax!" he whispered in her ear. "You look like a ghost. I've made up my mind. Come with me—follow me. Heller would be crazier if the hornet's nest was running around. But that's all we have to do." She followed him without saying a word.They stood on the escalator, looking down into the house, and Harry put his arm around her waist. Duff Dennis, standing beside them in anguish, struck a Chinese gong for dinner, and a roomful of jubilant journalists and budding stars gathered. "Guys," Dave Dennis said with a smile, "I have some amazing news to tell you. To be honest, I just found out, because Laura and Harry just made a decision. So please forgive him That's how they announced the news. They - let Harry do the talking." Harry hugged her tightly, sending his strength to her. "Friends," he began, "since you're friends of both of us, Laura's and mine, the news is easy. Laura and I—well, we've been in love for some time, Now that Laura's movie is done, we think it's time. We're getting married. We're leaving tonight and flying to Yuma to get married. Anyone is welcome to come with us as long as the plane I've chartered fits. The rest are welcome to stay here and continue to dance, and tomorrow we will come back to pack our bags and prepare for our honeymoon. I sincerely hope to get your blessings!" Immediately there was a loud commotion below.Laura saw Heller French blushing and angrily pushing away others to squeeze towards her, so she hurriedly tried to pull herself together. "But why, Harry, why?" she whispered. "Oh, I'm so glad, but why?" "Because, Laura," he told her in the same whisper, "it's the only way we can get rid of George. Even Hollywood stars can hide away for their honeymoon, can't they?" She saw the dressing room again after a day and half night, she quietly opened the door and went in, only a small light bulb was shining brightly inside.She smiled reassuringly, and Harry followed, closing and locking the door.They had been married for twelve hours and they had been inseparable. "We'll come down," he cried, "save us a drink." The photographers outside the door dispersed and went downstairs one after another.Laura's smile was gone, and there was a look of despair on her face. "Harry—" "Relax, Laura." He put an arm around her. "The worst is over." "If you want me to laugh at those reporters again..." "I know. You've never been this good." "They wanted me to - laugh a little more, but I kept thinking of George - lying in this trunk - and I laughed, Harry, laughed!" He hugged her, letting the sadness in her heart recede slowly. "Thanks, dear," she said, "I'll be well soon, what shall we do now?" Harry looked around the house. "Never mind," he said, "let Mary go and pack your things. Mine have already been packed by the servants. Coat, map, gloves, camera, and sunglasses, I think. Tell Mary to take Peter." Lo and your driver loaded the car, we went downstairs to say goodbye to the reporters, and told Duff not to let anyone in so we could get rid of George." There is a knock at the door. "Hi, it's Duff Dennis." "Come in, Duff." Harry turned the lock and pulled the door open. "How are you, two little lovebirds, are you ready for your honeymoon?" "Ready, Duff dear." Laura's voice was tender. "Thank you for doing so much for us. You're going to be a little sheep." "It's okay." The gentle and obedient appearance concealed the anger burning in his heart. "But you'd better give me some precautions. All the big newspapers will make headlines for us this month." "Love and war wait for no man, Duff," said Harry Lawrence, "you know what to do." "Well," the head of the public relations department showed a very forgiving look, "Anyway, the press has something to do now, and the two weeks of your honeymoon must be very lively-interviews, photos, there are many things to do. By the way, you haven't mentioned where you plan to go." "Mexico," said Harry Lawrence coldly, "but I'll tell you—we want to keep it a secret. Don't want to meet anyone, don't want to meet any reporters." "Wait!" Duff Dennis's kind mask suddenly disappeared, "You guys have tricked me by announcing your marriage, don't think about cutting off all ties with the outside world like this." "We want to, and we're going to do it," Laura said grimly. "Even in Hollywood, you can live your own honeymoon." "I promised Heller French that you'd give her the scoop when you get married!" said Duff Dennis, "and if you want her to be hostile to you forever—including the new company you're planning to form...  " "Okay," interrupted Harry, "how about two days? Just give us forty-eight hours. Give Heller the scoop in two days." "Okay,"—Duff spread his effeminate little hand—"two days. Mexico, huh?" "Yes. We plan to go to the mountains to visit an old friend and go hunting along the way. I will call you within two days and tell you the exact location. Tell Heller, she can interview by phone, and interview alone." "Okay." Duff shrugged his shoulders gracefully. "The men and women are waiting downstairs to toast you, Laura. You'd better have a word with them." "She'll tell, Duff. Let's tell Mary to send the servants to load the car, and then we'll go down." "Okay." Duff went out. Laura closed her eyes and drew a shaky breath. "It's all right, Harry, I can see them again," she said. "I know what to say." She stood up, smiling cheerfully, and held out a hand in prayer. "Thank you, thank you, thank you all. I can't express how happy I am now and what your best wishes mean to both of us. You are so kind and understanding. Now we have a little request. We are going to hide Rise—dear friends, please do not ask where we are going. We only want a small wedding present—forty-eight hours alone—just the two of us." Her face immediately changed, and she looked tortured. "Just the two of us," she thought, "so we can get rid of George, my ex-husband, a villain." The road stretched into the darkness, only the headlights of the station wagon flashed in the dark night.Harry Lawrence sat at the wheel, his face lined with fatigue.Laura leaned against him, taking comfort in his warmth and closeness, her face sunken with exhaustion. "Free now at last," said Harry quietly, looking out at the empty road. "While you put on an air of enthusiasm, I'll bet no one followed and we dumped them. Luckily we didn't tell that double-dealing Dennis." "We're married anyway." She raised her voice, as if she was going to collapse. "It's true, isn't it, Harry? We're going to stay married because there's no way, because there's too much to know." "Married, I'm so glad!" he said briskly. "We'll stay married because that's what we want to do. Thanks to George for making it happen." "George! Dear George! He got us married. And now the happy bride is packing his ex-husband in a trunk, and taking him off to the honeymoon like a dowry." She covered her face with her hands.Harry let her sob for a few minutes, then freed a hand to pat her. "Laura! There are headlights following us, catch up!" She gasped. "reporter?" "No—listen." Both of them heard the shrill siren. "It's a police car." "Harry, they found it! Oh my God, they found it!" "Impossible. Except you and me—only George knew about it—and we never told anyone. Our station wagon can't outrun a police car. Anyway, good Laura Rainer— Just try to stay calm." He stepped on the brake pedal to stop the car on the side of the road, and the police car roared and stopped behind them.Nervously, Laura took out her makeup case and powdered her face.Harry took out a cigarette and was about to light it when a stocky police officer strode up to the car and pressed his aggressive face against the window glass. "Look at the driver's license," he said aloud. "Where are you in a hurry to go tonight, sir?" "Of course!" replied Harry, with an air of good humor. "That's exactly what I was. We just got married—" "Hey, officer." Laura reached for the overhead light and turned it on.She leaned over and smiled. "I think you'll understand. I'm Laura Reina and this is my husband. We got married this morning." "Laura Reina, oh?" A small smile crept into that pissed face. "I saw your wedding on TV. Newsreel, this afternoon. All the papers." "Yeah, it's noisy." She sighed, cute and pitiful, a woman in love just wants to seek concealment. "Now the two of us want to hide and have a quiet honeymoon. If it's speeding, that's why." "Oh, of course." While the police officer was speaking, Harry quietly put his hand out of the car window and handed the officer a few banknotes. "I see what's going on. Look, if my wife finds out I picked up Laura Reina on her honeymoon, she won't be kicking me out of the house." "You're very reasonable," said Laura softly, with a smile of gracious thanks. "When will you bring your wife to the film company, I'd be happy to let her see the filming process." "You mean it? She'll be jumping for joy. Well, good luck to you, Mr. and Mrs. Rainer." "Thank you very much," said Laura softly.The station wagon started up again as the police car drifted away behind them.She waited until the lights of the police car disappeared from view before speaking. "Harry, I can't take it anymore. I can't take it." "It's almost there, sweetheart. Go another mile and turn north, and you'll be at my mountain cabin. We've been running south, and we're worried about Duff following us. Now it's all right, we can speed up and go back. By three in the morning We'll be in the cottage at a time when there's absolutely no one there, and then we'll get rid of George, get rid of him forever." "Quick," she lowered her voice, "quick. Every moment I feel him behind his back, in the trunk, winking at us like he knows what's going on." He nodded and accelerated the car.She stared at the white road and galloped until her eyes became sour, and finally fell asleep leaning on his shoulder. When the car passed a section of uneven road, the suitcase with George on the back flipped, and the rear cover of the car was almost knocked open. With the back lid still closed, the trunk lay back in its place. When she opened her eyes again, the car stopped.There was silence all around, not even the cries of small insects could be heard, only the whispers of the night wind passing through the pine forest.Harry turned off the lights, and his ramshackle old house loomed like a silent ghost against a starry sky, with a lonely lake behind it. "Here we are," he said.She was startled. "Everything is going well. I didn't see any headlights for an hour. We hid George in the shed and locked it up and let it rot. He'll be alive and well until the end of the world comes." "Thank God," she said, "I always believed George was going to ruin everything somehow." "Don't worry about George," said Harry, getting out of the car and opening the back. "Actually, I'm pretty satisfied with how I got George out under the noses of so many reporters. One day I'm going to make a movie about George." "Don't! Don't say that, Harry!" "Well, well, I forgot the idea. Here's the key to the cabin--the kind of hut you can climb in through the windows. I'll carry George--you go ahead and turn on the light." He opened the trunk.She heard him curse something, but didn't dare to look back.She walked up the bumpy path, his slow, heavy steps following.She climbed the stone steps to the porch made of wooden slats, fumbled to insert the key into the lock, and pushed the door open.She groped the unfamiliar wall to lead the way, trying to find the light switch. "I can't find where the light is," she said. "It's an overhead light. Just pull the cord. George is getting heavier and heavier. I want to put George on the bed." She fumbled for the wires in the dark, and just as she found them, she heard loud laughter and footsteps from the next room. "Mexico, the man said," Duff Dennis' sneer froze her fingers on the guy wire. "As soon as I saw that road map in his coat pocket, and saw that he didn't go to get a tourist card for Mexico, I knew it. Well, guys, let's officially welcome the happy couple. I guess he Walking in the door with his bride in his arms for a photoshoot, Pete." Immediately there was a burst of shouting. "Here comes the bride, here comes the bride—" The flashing lights blinded the room brightly.With a jerk of her hand, Laura flicked on the light. The din froze for a moment as the lights came on and the blinding effect of flashing lights faded away. "My God!" someone yelled, and then a female reporter screamed. Harry stood beside Laura with George across his shoulders, George's face inches from hers.She didn't see Duff Dennis, she didn't see the reporters, she didn't see the screaming woman, she only saw George's dead eyes, so close, partly open from the cold, then blinking evilly After a moment, it closed again.